


a brave man never spoke

by EasyPeasyPanic



Category: Naruto
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, Guilt, Hero Worship, Implied Kakashi, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EasyPeasyPanic/pseuds/EasyPeasyPanic
Summary: Takahashi Asahi hates himself. And the village hates Hatake Sakumo, but not as much as Asahi hates himself.Because if he were a brave man, if he weren't such a fucking coward, Asahi would proudly walk up to Sakumo and greet him like a human being. He would proclaim Sakumo his comrade, the bravest of them all, the one that saved his life.___Or the short tale of how one of Hatake Sakumo's teammates felt about the fateful mission that drove him to suicide. The mission where Sakumo saved his comrade's life.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	a brave man never spoke

* * *

Everything goes wrong. 

Something hurts, but not enough for Asahi to be concerned, just for a second anyway. He blinks. He could have  _ sworn _ that the enemy managed to punch him, a blow to his side with their fist because he stumbles back with a familiar  _ aching  _ pain. But then Asahi looks down, sees the blood spilling out of his side, between his ribs, and confusion settles over for a moment. Why was there so much--

Asahi  _ chokes _ , spitting out his own blood, the taste of iron overwhelming his senses. It's everywhere. It's in his mouth, his nose, pouring down his throat. He spits out some acidic, as his stomach turns and twista, bile burning his throat, and he stumbles again. When did the battlefield get so quiet? What happened? 

His knees give out. Arms wrap around his chest and waist so t _ ight, tight, too tight _ . 

It hurts. Why does it hurt? 

"Asahi-san." Somebody shouts urgently in his ears, and he looks up. Black eyes. Black eyes and silver hair and white hot chakra. 

(He looked so familiar. Who was he again?)

"Don't worry, Asahi-san. I won't let you die. You're too young to die. I won't abandon you here." The figure tells him. Asahi tries to respond.  _ That's my name. That's my name.  _ He opens his mouth, but thick blood spits out. He wheezes, but that's not new. He's always had weak lungs. Weak, wheezy lungs. 

(Asthma. He had childhood asthma. That isn't important now.)

Maybe that's why he's so dizzy now. Horrible lungs. More arms are around,  _ more and more.  _ They hurt, more and more. It hits him suddenly, worse than before. 

Agony in his chest. He can't breathe. Pain and pain and  _ pain _ . Asahi faintly heard a shout, a cry. Sharp chakra, everywhere. Pain, pain,  _ pain _ . Another yell--

The voice shouts, "Retreat!" But his head spins and it  _ hurts _ . 

Pain. 

Black. 

Pain. Pain. Pain--

**_____ **

He keeps fading in and out. Out and in.

Fades out. Comes back to pain, pain,  _ pain _ . Goes into a short, confusing blackness that he comes out of too soon. 

It hurts. Everything hurts, every movement that isn't his, every jostle and every jump.  _ Pain and pain and… _

"Don't worry, Asahi-san." He hears again and again, and there are hands on him. Warm, rough hands against his cheek, his neck, his wound. Hurts and hurts and  _ HURTS _ . He  _ knew  _ that name, but it didn’t feel right. It felt too peripheral for all the familiarity of the word. Like it wasn't real. His stomach twists painfully, and he can't-- can't--

He fades again. Goes back to the black and nothing and numb. Comes back to hands touching him. A new voice speaking. New voices. 

"--two more healers here."

"Straight through the muscle here-- Shit!"

"Get me a blood transfusions! Type match now!"

"--shit, his lung was punctured--"

"We have another one of the squad--"

Lightning chakra comes and goes too. Stays near and leaves. White chakra. Silver hair. Where is he going? Why's he leaving?

"--any family to contact?"

He wants up. He wants away. He wants to follow Lightning Man. Lightning Man was safe. He was  _ good _ . It hurts to lay down. Hurts to be on his back. He hasn't faded back out yet. It  _ hurts _ bad. The hands hurt. The voices hurt. His head pounds. 

He's going to die. He doesn't  _ want  _ to die. He just wants his mom--

"Sedative now. Needs to get to surgery. Clear a path!"

Something pricks. Something stings. 

He fades back out quick. Like a snap of someone's fingers. 

**_____ **

He wakes up again. 

Asahi comes and goes, only managing to stay conscious for short periods of time. He doesn't know how long it's been like this. He's not dying, not exactly, he's told, but it'll feel like he is. Infection. A fever has come for him, and it isn't giving him an ounce of reprieve. Confusion settles into his mind. Everything's too hot, too cold, too bright and too dark. He's in a hospital in Konoha, he knows that, but that doesn't make any sort of sense. 

They were behind enemy lines, deep in the heart of Wind Country, nearing Sunagakure's closest intel bases. They needed that information, did they deliver the scrolls back to Konoha safely? Did they manage to--

His skin burned, tight and constricting, as if it clung to his soul like wet silk, and the space was much too stuffy for him to breath. Asahi clings to the first nurse that comes into the room, the one he knows serves as a medic on the frontlines, clawing at her sleeves. 

"Where's--" He breathes out. "My captain. Did we finish the mission?"

The nurse blinks, her eyes turning into something like pity. Something like disgust. "It isn't your fault, Takahashi-san." She insists. "Just rest. It isn't your fault." 

_ That  _ doesn't sound right at all.  _ My fault? My-- _

As frustrated as he is, as unsure and confused and  _ not tired anymore _ , Asahi feels something cold through his veins. He drifts off slowly and fighting the sleep. 

**_____ **

A few times, he thinks he feels  _ WHITE, WARM, ELECTRICITY, SPARKING.  _ Like Sakumo-Taichou. 

Asahi's a sensor, so he knows these things, but a feverish sensor doesn't always manage to feel the right things, so he's wary of it. Cautious. He might be wrong. 

Why would Sakumo-Taichou visit him anyway? Nobody else has, not even the rest of his squad for the mission into Sunagakure, and Asahi hadn't really known the legendary man except for the few times they worked together in the past year. 

So everytime he thinks he feels it, Asahi corrects himself. There's no reason for a Captain to visit him. The mission is over. He's back in Konoha. It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing  _ matters _ . Besides, the sparks fade away as he slowly recovers from his injury.

(No matter how much he admires Sakumo-san, it's unrealistic to think he's special to him in anyway. There are many that admire The White Fang, right? And Asahi isn't special, even if he fought and trained and begged for missions with him. His personal hero, the  _ legend _ , has no reason to visit him.)

"Takahashi-san?"

"Yes?" 

The nurse is  _ smiling.  _ "You're being released today!"

Asahi leans his head back against the scratchy, cheap hospital-issues pillow.  _ Good. He can go home.  _

**_____ **

He's tired, stumbling his way home through the busy streets of the Shopping District, clutching onto his pained side and trying to hide in his jacket. 

There aren't many shinobi in the Shopping District, not during war when so many are being diployed, so he doesn't have to see anybody he knows. Asahi takes this way, long way, so he can pass by the little tea house a block away from his apartment where that handsome cashier gives him a discount. He enters, ignoring the pitying stares of the few shinobi that pass him by and the strange curiousity of their stares, and goes straight to the counter. 

The handsome cashier  _ smiles  _ at him. "Takahashi-san." He says, eyes wide and he hastily wipes his hands on his apron. "Asahi-san," He corrects himself. "I'm so glad to see you. I'm so  _ sorry  _ about what happened." 

"Sorry?" Asahi repeats, feeling like it's a one-sided conversation. Like he's missing something big and important, and he doesn't understand exactly  _ what  _ he's missing. "About my wound?"

"About your mission." The man insists. "Everyone knows." His voice  _ lowers _ , and Asahi bends his head down to listen closer. "About what that bastard did-- the White Fang." 

_ What Sakumo-taichou did? What'd he do? He's the White Fang, Hero of the Leaf. He could give the Legendary Sannin a run for their money! _

"Oh." Asahi doesn't understand. He's tired of the pitying stares. He's tired of the whispers from nurses  _ it's not your fault, i'm so sorry.  _ What isn't? What happened? 

"I can't believe he failed his mission, just to drag everyone back. I know how it makes you shinobi feel. Nobody blames you, you know. Everyone talks about it. You did your duty. You were going to die for you mission, but that bastard took the honor from you." The cashier explains, except he doesn't know he's explaining anything. Asahi  _ blinks _ , brushing his fingers through his long brown hair, tugging it back. 

His fingers itch for a hair tie to get it from touching his back, but he doesn't have one. When was the last time he had one? Asahi shifts on his feet, his stomach turning again like all of his bile was going to boil out and through his skin. 

"I'm not feeling well." He sputters out. "I'm going home." 

The cashier smiles  _ warmly _ , "Sure." Then he pauses, his handsome green eyes suddenly not so good-looking or earnest. "Maybe you could come back later? And we could grab a bite to eat?"

_ I don't even know your name. I've come for months, but you never told me. And now you want a date. After you've spit such hateful things about a legend. No. No! _

"Maybe." Asahi smiles back. False and plastic. Hiding a retch beneath his teeth. 

What the  _ fuck  _ has happened?

**_____ **

The mission was a failure. 

When the tides turned, when they were overwhelmed, when Asahi was  _ struck down _ , when his teammates were overwhelmed and losing, everything went to shit. He knew that part. He knew something went wrong as he choked on his own blood, but it was worse than he thought. 

Sakumo abandoned the scrolls, abandoned the information necessary to save countless lives and potentially turn the tide in the war. Those were  _ important. _ They were worth dying over. Those scrolls had information on Iwagakure's planned attacks on Konohagakure, top secret and valuable, giving the Hokage an idea of where to send and not send their shinobi. 

It was necessary. And Sakumo  _ abandoned  _ them, to drag Asahi and his two comrades back home to safety. It makes him feel sick to his stomach.  _ My life wasn't worth the dozens going to end by being blindly sent to war.  _ But he's also so thankful to be alive. 

He's so thankful to get to come home to his cat, Yumi, and to get to babysit his neighbor's two little kids because they're so funny and remind him of his little cousins that live in the Fire Capital, and so thankful he gets to go to the teahouse and see the super good-looking cashier that he really wants to take on a date. 

Thankful to get to live and breath, and see his friends, and get to go to the park to draw the scenery because he loves drawing so much. He's so happy he's alive because he was so afraid to die, so terrified of it, and he really has no plans of repeating the experience. 

But it makes him feel unimaginably guilty. Because Asahi gets reads report after report, from Sakumo and his squad mates, but it doesn't make sense. Why would  _ the Hatake Sakumo  _ decide to abandon his mission? Asahi grew up admiring and envying and wanting to be the White Fang. He honed his chakra sensing just for the chance of being sent out on missions as a sensor for Sakumo-taichou's team! 

So why would he…?

Asahi doesn't understand it. He almost does. He understands how people feel, how Sakumo felt when he pulled him off the ground as he bled to death. The memory whispers to him.  _ You're too young to die. I won't abandon you here _ . His Captain, the White Fang, decided his comrades were worth more than the mission, decided his life was worth more.

And he's so grateful. He didn't want to die at eighteen, without family to miss him, not yet. He wants to marry, to adopt children. Asahi understands, somehow, but _that_ mission should have come first. Those lives, the ones not yet taken, should have come first. The mission should have come first. Sakumo-taichou was a hero, a true hero, and the greatest shinobi so he should have finished the mission, right? He should have abandoned them to their deaths...

Right?

**_____ **

He's just finished a D-Rank mission. Asahi can't do much without aggravating the tender stitching of his wound, still not fully healed due to his multiple infections, but it was slowly coming together. In the mean time, however, the Hokage is considerate enough to assign him simple missions. 

Such as handing out pamphlets outlining the duties of citizens during war times, so Asahi had stood in the middle of Konoha for half the day handing out papers to people that really didn't seem to care. What was a bunch of emergency gardening procedures to civilians anyway, or to fully trained shinobi? Either way, he's happy to be on his way home. Yumi would be hungry by now, and he needed to shower because it's way  _ too _ hot in these bandages and he felt dirty and sticky. 

He's nearly to his housing district, shoving his newest mission payment into his small purse when he passes by a small resturant, a traditional place, and--

"You aren't welcome here!"

Asahi  _ stops _ , one foot dangling uselessly in front of the other, and cocks his head to the side. There's a small crowd gathered in front of the eatery, surronding the entrance. He back pedals, watching from a distance. Who were they talking to?

A familiar voice catches his attention. "Ma'am, I'm just trying to have lunch with my son--"

_ Sakumo-taichou?  _ Asahi gets on his tiptoes, peeking over the crowd.

An older woman, the hostess, has her arms crossed and a sneer on her lips, "I said a traitor isn't welcome! Get out! Before I'm forced to get a member of the Police Force here!"

His Captain, the man that saved his life and carried him to Konoha bleeding on his back, stands with a flush on his cheeks. He looks entirely too embarrased, and he tugs at a small boy's hand. His son? The boy stares at the hostess in resentment, like he was ready to  _ fight _ , but Sakumo pulls him. 

"Excuse me." Sakumo says loudly, but the crowd doesn't part for him. In fact, they get closer and closer. More civilians and a few shinobi joining the group, beginning to shout.

"Fucking traitor!"

"Disgrace!"

"You shoulda died and let your team--"

"--fuck you and your son!"

"Go die!"

"..shame your family name! Disgraceful bastard!"

Asahi doesn't know what to do, what to say.  _ This  _ was his hero growing up, he learned about The White Fang before he learned to control his chakra, there were always whispers about him and the Three Sannin in Asahi's childhood neighborhood. This was the man that saved his life, at great personal cost. This was--

"Bastard!" Somebody roars. An empty glass bottle flies through the air. His captain's dark eyes flashed, and he gathered his son into his arms, and disappeared in a flash of leaves. The glass shatters where his son once stood. Where they both were standing.

Thankfully he left before he saw Asahi. Though even  if he had, what would he even have said? Would he have waited for Asahi to defend him, to publicly thank him for his life? Or would he have expected him to humiliate him in front of his little, silver-haired son too? And what would Asahi have even done? 

A hand against his shoulder makes him jump right out of his skin and back. Kami, he's a sensor! How is he even caught unaware? He turns to two brown eyes, hard and familiar. 

"Oh." Asahi says. "Hiroto-san." 

Saito Hiroto stands beside him, his lips pressed together thinly and his eyes narrowed. He had been on their squad, as their defense, performing protective sealing better than most in the village. As far as Asahi knew, the brown-haired man was a decent guy, fair and non-judgemental. Hiroto is still nursing a broken arm, even a month and a half after their mission. The man, a few years older than Asahi, squeezes his shoulder with his good hand.

"A fucking disgrace." Hiroto says slowly. "That bastard shouldn't have saved either one of us. Took away our good deaths. My sister fought and died for this village, and I wanted to die for it too, if that's what it took. Would have, if Sakumo hadn't done what he did. What kind of a  _ man _ chooses a team over his mission? What kind of shitty shinobi has he become?"

Well, apparently fair and non-judgemental was wrong. Asahi doesn't say anything at all. He stands there, still and quiet, staring at the spot where his team captain had once been standing, unsure of what to say. He knows not to mention how only a month ago, before the mission, Hiroto had been  _ singing  _ Hatake Sakumo's praises, just as over the moon as Asahi had been about working with him. 

"He stole it from us." Hiroto murmurs. "He stole our good deaths from us."

Asahi…

He doesn't know what a good death is. He doesn't think any death is a good one. 

**_____ **

They see each other in the market one day, Sakumo with a small basket that's sparse and holds mostly rotten fruits and vegetables. A few canned goods. They villagers won't sell to him, Asahi realizes. 

They lock eyes before Asahi can hide or get away, and he finishes paying for his big pile of  _ Instant--Microwave 3 Minutes Meals.  _ His son, the boy with silver hair and a mask, isn't around this time. Asahi's childhood friend, Yukie, stands nearby, chatting mindlessly, but stops when she notices Sakumo's staring. 

"What a disgrace." She hisses, shoving a bag of plums into his shopping bag, her green eyes shimmering with disgust. Asahi feels her gaze turn to him in expectation, and suddenly it feels like the entire village has its gaze on him. Everyone seems to quiet. 

Sakumo stalks closer, offering a hint of a smile. It's a worn smile, like a tattered blanket being drug through the house to be used once again, and Asahi doesn't offer one in return. His side hurts, not because of the wound, but because his guilt eats away at him like a hungry monster, clawing and gourging itself in fresh remorse. 

"You look well." Sakumo offers, and gives Yukie a nod of respect at her Jonin vest, but his friend sneers at him. He hears a hiss under her breath of  _ shame _ , and Asahi knows that Sakumo heard it too. There are loud, hateful shouts from near them. "Is your wound healed, Asahi-san?" 

In that moment, with fifteen pairs of eyes on him, including that of his closest friend and the stare of the handsome cashier as he sweeps the porch of the teahouse, Asahi makes a miserable, terrible, selfish decision. This man sacrificed  _ everything _ , his reputation, the mission, his own honor to save Asahi's life. So Asahi can't bring himself to act like the other shinobi and spit horrible words at him, or to wish him and his son death. It doesn't feel right. It isn't right. 

But Asahi is a coward. Afraid of death, afraid of being treated badly and being alone, afraid of what his peers think of him,  _ afraid. Afraid. Afraid.  _

A fucking coward. 

Asahi doesn't spit venom at this already hated man. He doesn't wish him death or curse him. No, he can't bring himself to be so hateful. He does something entirely worse. 

He ignores him. Walks straight past him like he isn't even there. Yukie follows after him,  _ smiling  _ like Asahi's just brought the Shodai back to life, and it infuriates him beyond belief. And breaks his heart when he hears a soft, broken  _ sigh _ from behind him. Asahi turns back, to look at his Captain's face. 

His dark eyes are solemn, understanding and pained, as if he had expected that exact reaction. As if he knew Asahi would ultimately reject him. But still, there was also disappointment in that strong gaze. 

Asahi walked faster, past his best friend, past his crush, past all the villagers that looked at him in approval. He ran to his apartment and never looked back. 

**_____ **

Takahashi Asahi  _ hates _ himself. And the village hates Hatake Sakumo, but not as much as Asahi hates himself. 

Because if he were a brave man, if he weren't such a fucking coward, Asahi would proudly walk up to Sakumo and greet him like a human being. He would proclaim Sakumo his comrade, the bravest of them all, the one that saved his life. He would shout that he believed in the same things, that life, human life,  _ friends _ ,  _ comrades _ should come before a mission, and Sakumo shouldn't be punished for his compassion and humanity. He would take the same abuse as Sakumo, he would bear the burden of the staring and the name-calling, would scrub the profanities and lewidness off his own house like he's seen Sakumo-taichou do many times. He would take some of the blame, explain his point of view. 

He wants to scream at them  _ you fools, hate me too! Hate me for being weak enough to be struck down. Hate me for almost dying. Hate me for failing my mission by almost dying. Hate me for making Sakumo-taichou have to save me. Hate me. Hate me. Hate me for being too selfish to tell the truth.  _ But Asahi doesn't scream or shout. He stays quiet about he really feels. He's a coward.

But Takahashi Asahi is  _ not  _ a brave man. He's a coward. He's a fraud. He isn't the hero that the village wants to make him out to be, he wasn't willing to die that day for his village without fear. Sakumo didn't steal his death, he gave him life, and there's a difference. But Asahi is a coward. Asahi is ashamed. Asahi  _ cares  _ what people think about him, wants and needs to be accepted and valued. He doesn't have a family, but he has his neighbors, and Yukie, and that cashier that writes his apartment number on each reciept he gets, and he has those around him that treat him decently.

Asahi loves being around people. Loves talking and chatting with civilians and shopkeepers and being known. 

He's a coward. 

He says nothing, does nothing, and lets the world do as it pleases to poor Sakumo and his son. He lets them face it alone, without an ally because he's too afraid to be hated. He lets Sakumo-taichou, his captain, a good man with good morals that didn't deserve to be treated poorly because Asahi was too weak to save himself, be tormented. 

Hatake Sakumo  _ kills  _ himself to restore his honor, to bring honor to his family name. The village rejoices, as if his death will change what had happened, as if he hadn't been driven to orphaning that silver-haired boy with mask by their hateful words and cruel actions. Asahi doesn't rejoice. He feels the claws of guilt dig  _ deeper, deeper, more pain, more nightmares, why didn't you save yourself? Weak. Coward.  _

It was a noble act. It was supposed to be a noble act. But it wasn't. A noble act was saving three men from their deaths instead of retrieving a piece of parchment with sketchy information, at best. A noble act was somehow managing to take that much abuse from the village one loved, from those he saved, from the people he fought and bled for, for so long before it broke him down. Suicide wasn't his noble act, it was his only relief and Asahi hated himself for it.

If he hadn't been a coward, his captain would be alive right now. If he hadn't been such a coward, he would have managed to take the kunai he held in trembling fingers and thrust it into his own chest. He'd redeem his own silence with his death, right? Absolve himself of his guilt with his life. A coward's life. A life that didn't deserve saving if he couldn't return the favor to someone who needed it. 

But Asahi wants to live. He's afraid to die. 

He's a coward. 

He doesn't kill himself. 

* * *


End file.
